


Can't Find Those Silver Linings

by montecarlos



Category: Formula 1 RPF, GP2 Series RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pining, Romance, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 08:46:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7308193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montecarlos/pseuds/montecarlos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pierre has loved Alex all his life. It's just a shame that the Brit doesn't see him in the same way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Find Those Silver Linings

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the wonderful Emma who requested "I told you not to fall in love with me. - Pierre/Alex (gimme some one sided goodness Sarah)." I hope this is what you wanted. 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Pierre stood in the airport, his chest full of trepidation as he watched the people exit through the gate looking healthy and bronzed. He remembers over a year ago standing at this very gate, his arms thrown around pale shoulders, a wide smile ghosting over the other boy’s lips.  
  
“I will miss you,” Pierre remembers whispering and the brown eyes had locked on him.  
  
“I will miss you too, pear,” Alex had whispered back, smiling as his arms had folded around Pierre. Pierre had held back the tears, had held back his feelings for the tall Brit as he’d clapped Pierre on the shoulder and readjusted his backpack. “We’ll Skype loads okay?”  
  
“You better, Lynn,” Pierre had said, watching as the Brit picked up his luggage and turned on his heel, waving one last time before he steps up to the gate. Pierre had waved back, trying not to cry, trying not to think about how the meeting could have gone. He tries not to think about the fact that Alex will be in New Zealand for a year, that he won’t be able to go over to Alex’s house or call him at ridiculous times in the morning.  
  
It had being a tough year for Pierre but they had managed - he and Alex had Skyped when they could, sent a few hasty text messages and emails between them. He was glad to be finally seeing his best friend once more. He watches the gate carefully, watching the tanned happy people come through. His heart stops as he finally meets the gaze of the person he’s been waiting for. Alex is much more tanned than he was when he left, his skin is a golden shade of brown and he seems to have grown a foot since the last time Pierre saw him. He feels his lips curve into a smile as Alex surges forward, scooping him into his arms. Pierre feels the tears prick in the corners of his eyes as he buries his face against Alex’s neck, burying his nose against the fabric of his hoodie.  
  
“Missed you, Lynn,” He whispers against the material.  
  
“Missed you too, pear,” Alex says back, Pierre smiling as Alex’s arms push him against the tight newly-formed muscle of his chest.  
  
Pierre closes his eyes as his feelings come flooding back.

* * *

  
  
However, Pierre’s excitement of having his best friend back soon fades as they settle back into life together. Alex spends a lot of time on his phone staring at his Messenger, laughing whenever he gets a certain message and a new name keeps popping up on Alex’s Facebook page.  
  
_Mitch Evans._  
  
Pierre checks out his profile. He’s from Auckland, is several months younger than Alex and himself and judging by the photo of himself resting against the car, is also a racer. Pierre feels his heart tug as he clicks on the photo section of Mitch’s profile, he scrolls through photo after photo of a beautiful bronzed teenager with dark brown eyes sitting on a beach next to a bunch of other guys, raising a drink to the camera. He pauses as he finds a familiar face in amongst the photographs. There’s one of Mitch and Alex is wrapped around his back, their legs tangled together.  
  
_In paradise with the boy._ The caption reads.  
  
Pierre worries his lip as he skips to the next photograph. It’s one of Mitch rubbing noses with Alex, a sleepy smile on his face, clearly taken in one of their beds, Alex’s pale skin in contrast against the sheets.  
  
_My whole world_ , the caption reads with a row of hearts after it.  
  
Pierre closes his Facebook and resists the urge to be sick. Alex had a boyfriend? Alex had acquired a boyfriend whilst he was over in New Zealand, a boyfriend he didn’t even bother telling Pierre about. Pierre closes his eyes, hand fisting into his bedsheets as he thinks about the photographs of Alex and Mitch curled up together, thinks about how Alex had never been interested in anyone _ever_ .  
  
“Hey,” Alex’s sleepy voice pipes up from the doorway.  
  
“Hey,” Pierre whispers back, glancing up to see Alex leaning on the doorframe.  
  
“You okay?” Alex asks, his brown eyes holding a touch of concern.  
  
“I’m just tired,” Pierre says as Alex slides into the bed next to him. They’ve shared a bed more times than they can count - Alex’s bed is certainly large enough for them to share. Pierre catches the scent of his shower gel and the toothpaste still clinging to the corner of his lip.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Alex whispers, moving closer.  
  
“For what?” Pierre asks, eyebrow raised.  
  
“I’ve been a shit friend since I got back,” Alex says softly, his brown eyes burning into Pierre’s. “My head’s been back in New Zealand,”  
  
“It’s okay-” Pierre begins, thinking about what Alex did in New Zealand, how much of his best friend’s life he’d missed whilst he was out there. “I’m glad you had a good time, did you meet some good people?”  
  
“I did,” Alex says, pausing for a moment. “I lost my virginity out there,”  
  
“Oh,” Pierre replies, trying not to think of Alex losing his virginity to the bronzed teenager on Facebook. “Glad somebody finally took it,”  
  
“I’m glad I waited,” Alex admits, his eyes look like liquid chocolate. “I...I erm, I’m kind of dating the guy who took it?”  
  
“Oh,” Pierre says again, feeling his cheeks turn pink. “Is he still in New Zealand?”  
  
“Yeah,” Alex says, smiling. “Is that a bit weird?”  
  
“Well, you’ve never really being interested in anyone before, you were all about the racing,” Pierre says, hating how pink his cheeks are.  
  
“I guess Mitch changed my mind,” Alex continues.  
  
“Mitch?” Pierre asks, his fears recognised.  
  
“He’s called Mitch. You’d like him, pear. He’s smart, funny, beautiful. He’s everything you could ever want, stopped me feeling so homesick,”  
  
“I’m glad,” Pierre says, smiling. He ignores the twisting sensation in his chest, ignores the nausea bubbling up inside him as Alex snuggles closer to him and falls into sleep. Pierre lays awake, thinking about Alex, thinking about Mitch, thinking about them sleeping together and tears prick up in the corners of his eyes.

* * *

  
  
He ends up meeting Mitch a few months later when he comes over from New Zealand to visit Alex. He’s exactly as Pierre pictured; bronzed skin, dark hair and eyes, a wide smile, though he’s shorter than Pierre imagined. Alex however, beams when he sees him, his arm wrapping around Mitch’s shoulder as he bends down to ghost his lips over Mitch’s cheek.  
  
“I missed you,” Alex whispers.  
  
“I missed you too, ace,” Mitch says back, giggling slightly.  
  
Pierre swallows the feeling of nausea back as he watches the pair carefully, watches for any sign that Mitch doesn’t adore Alex as much as the Brit clearly adores him.  
  
“Mitchy,” Alex says, snapping himself out of his reverie. “This is my best friend, Pierre. Pierre, this is my boyfriend, Mitchell,”  
  
“I’ve heard lots about you,” Pierre says quietly as he holds his hand out for the Kiwi to shake.  
  
“All good things I hope?” Mitch asks, wiggling his eyebrows. “I know ace here likes to exaggerate,”  
  
“All good things,” Pierre echoes, letting go of Mitch’s hand as though it burns. “How did you two meet anyway?”  
  
“At a race,” Mitch says, smiling as Alex’s hand slides around his waist. “We were racing against each other. I won, he didn’t like it-”  
  
“Mitchy, you nearly crashed into me, be honest,” Alex says, laughing. “It was my first race. This hotshot nearly mowed me off at the first corner,”  
  
“I apologised after the race,” Mitch pouts.  
  
“I know,” Alex says, their lips meeting together. Pierre smiles, feels his heart break at the sight of Alex so happy, so content with Mitch.

* * *

  
Pierre watches Alex and Mitch around each other, they seem to compliment one another perfectly not only in looks - Mitch is short and dark in comparison to Alex who is tall and pale - but in personality too, Mitch’s quick wit is a perfect foil to Alex’s drier sense of humour. He watches them climb the stairs into bed together, watches Alex’s hand around Mitch’s waist, watches them giggling together.  
  
However, it doesn’t last. Pierre finds Alex crying under his duvet a week later, after he’s just finished taking Mitch back to the airport. Pierre feels his heart break as he looks down at his best friend, at the tears falling down his cheeks.  
  
“I miss him already,” Alex whispers as Pierre folds his arms around his friend, knowing that Alex wants nothing more than Mitch by his side.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Pierre mutters as he strokes over Alex’s back carefully. “He’ll be back before you know it,”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Alex says, his brown eyes locking on Pierre’s. “I’m sorry for being upset,”  
  
“You miss him,” Pierre says softly. “That’s okay,” He presses away his own pain as he focuses on Alex, his hand gently cupping his best friend’s back, allowing Alex to fall asleep against him, his breathing evening out.

* * *

  
  
Alex protests at Pierre dragging him out the night after. He pretends he’s busy but Pierre refuses to take no for an answer. He drags Alex out in one of his best going out shirts - the white one with the tiny silver stripes - and pushes a beer into his best friend’s hand.  
  
“You need to get out and enjoy yourself,” Pierre says softly.  
  
However, he regrets that statement a few hours later when he’s lost count of how much he and Alex have drunk between them. Alex giggles, his head resting against Pierre’s shoulder as they clamber into the back of the taxi. Richie closes the door behind them and gives the driver Alex’s address.  
  
“Do you regret coming out tonight?” Pierre slurs, looking down at his best friend.  
  
“The alcohol was nice,” Alex admits from his position. “I still miss him though,”  
  
“I missed you when you were over there,” Pierre blurts out, blush staining his cheeks. “I shouldn’t have said that,” He says, looking out at the rain-sodden London through the windows.  
  
“I missed you too, pear,” Alex slurs, looking up at the Frenchman with his big brown eyes. “I wish you’d have come to New Zealand with me,”  
  
“I wish I’d have come too,” Pierre whispers, looking down at Alex. He’s not sure if it’s the alcohol sloshing around in his system that makes him more confident, but he finds himself gazing into Alex’s eyes for a moment before he leans in and presses their lips together.  
  
He feels the warmth blossom in his chest as his lips ghost over Alex’s, his hand fisting into the front of Alex’s shirt. Alex’s lips are chapped and warm against his own and Alex kisses back for a moment, his movements sloppy. However, just as Pierre’s tongue ghosts over Alex’s lips, the Brit jolts against him and his eyes widen as he rips his lips away.  
  
“Pierre, we can’t-” He slurs out, looking scandalised.  
  
“Alex-” Pierre begins, feeling the situation slip from his control.  
  
“Pierre, I’m with Mitch. I love him,” Alex slurs quietly, his words making less and less sense.  
  
“And I love you,” Pierre admits, unable to stop himself.  
  
He glances at Alex, only to find the Brit slumped against the seat, eyes closed.

* * *

  
  
Pierre pretends he never said those three words to Alex after that night. He watches Alex and Mitch get closer and closer over time, the visits to England become more and more frequent. Pierre gets used to Mitch as part of their group of friends; he likes the Kiwi, he’s funny and intelligent with a wicked sense of humour but there’s times that he watches him, Alex’s hand curled in his own and he feels the nausea curl up inside his chest.  
  
He tries to fill the gap with dating other men. Carlos has been part of their friendship group for some time and Pierre knows he likes to have a good time. Carlos kisses him, presses him into the sheets of his bed and takes his virginity. Pierre shows up at Alex’s house the next day wearing the marks from Carlos’s teeth like trophies. However, it doesn’t last between them. Carlos goes back off to Dany and Pierre finds his way to Max’s bed. Max is a nice enough kid - Pierre and he go way back, back to when they were both teenagers - and he’s an excellent lover. Pierre almost forgets about Alex, forgets who he really wants. He and Max do all the typical couple things; they go to dinner together, they spend evenings snuggled up together on the couch, they have sex every other night. However, as with Carlos, Max soon realises that Pierre doesn’t feel the same way and they part ways a few months later.  
  
Stoffel is the next. He’s kind, intelligent and incredibly good looking and Pierre can’t believe his luck when the Belgian asks him out. He accepts almost immediately. They are good together; they work in harmony. Stoffel comes over to Pierre’s house for dinner and Pierre goes over to Stoffel’s to watch a movie. At first, they do nothing but go and eat dinner every Friday and have sex a handful of times during the week. Pierre smiles as Stoffel pushes him into the sheets of his bed, his mouth nipping at the pale collarbone.  
  
However, his notion is shattered a few weeks later when Alex calls him one evening before he’s due to go to Stoffel’s house.  
  
“I’m sorry I’ve barely been around recently-” He begins and Pierre laughs away the tension.  
  
“What’s the matter, Lynny?” He asks fondly.  
  
“I have news,” Alex says, pausing for a moment. “Mitch and I are moving in together,”  
  
Pierre feels his heart plummet at the Brit’s words. He knows that Alex is waiting for the congratulations. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he smiles. “Oh god, that’s great news,”  
  
“Took us long enough but Mitch was tired of going back to New Zealand all the time. He’s going to move in with me,”  
  
Pierre nods once, tears pricking at his eyes. “I’m happy for you two,” He says.  
  
He and Alex make small talk for another ten minutes before he hangs up. The second he hears the dial tone, he slumps to the floor, sobbing as he clutches the receiver.

* * *

  
  
He and Richie help Mitch and Alex move into their apartment in London together. Pierre has to hold himself together at the sight of the boxes covering the floor, at the sight of Mitch snogging Alex in the lounge on his tiptoes, his hand cupping Alex’s face ever so gently before they break apart, cheeks flushed bright red.  
  
“You can christen every room when we leave, can’t you?” Richie mutters in a joking tone.  
  
Pierre glances out of the window at the view of London stretching out before them. He busies himself carrying a few boxes into the bedroom. He pauses by the bedside table, picking up a framed photograph of Mitch and Alex.  
  
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Alex’s voice pipes up behind him. He stiffens, placing the photograph down on the table.  
  
“And ridiculously expensive,” Pierre jokes, smiling slightly.  
  
“I know,” Alex says quietly. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”  
  
“Of course,” Pierre says, biting his lip. “Why wouldn’t I be?”  
  
“I feel like we’ve drifted apart the last few months. We were busy sorting out our apartment and you were busy with Stof and well, I missed you pear,” Alex says, moving forward and pulling Pierre into a long hug.  
  
“I missed you too,” Pierre admits as he rests his head against Alex’s shoulder, breathing in the scent of his best friend’s cologne.

* * *

  
  
Another year passes and Pierre watches Alex settle into co-inhabiting bliss with Mitch, watches them plaster photos of each other with paint rollers in their hands on Facebook. He and Stoffel still have their own apartments but meet up every weekend. However, it’s not just their lives that are changing. Dany goes down on one knee during the summer break, beaming at Carlos who says yes in between tears.  They watch Carlos saunter down the aisle in his perfect tailored black suit, hair swept back from his face as Dany waits at the front, beaming widely. Pierre catches sight of Alex a few feet away, dressed up in a tight navy suit that clings to every curve, Mitch is at his side, looking a little tearful as he watches Carlos walk up the aisle. Pierre pictures himself standing in that position, wonders if he could stand there with everyone watching him, imagines Alex standing next to him, smiling. He smiles at the thought of marrying Alex, of them wearing matching wedding bands.  
  
Stoffel squeezes his hand and he feels the thoughts drain away as he smiles and squeezes Stoffel’s hand back in return.  
  
Alex ends up catching the bouquet that Carlos throws for a joke.  
  
“You’ll be next, Lynn!” Richie teases, waggling his eyebrows.  
  
“Only if he gets me a Tiffany ring!” Mitch cuts in, smiling at his boyfriend.  
  
Pierre watches Alex with a heavy heart, watches his best friend look down at the bouquet, look at Carlos and Dany cutting their wedding cake with desire in his eyes. He longs to pull Alex to one side, to tell him that he’s being in love with him all his life. Pierre wonders if it would change anything at all, if he would make Alex truly look at him. He sighs heavily, allows Stoffel to curl their hands together and pull him to the dancefloor. They waltz together slowly but Pierre’s eyes move to rest on Alex’s back as he sways to the music, leading Mitch around.

* * *

  
  
“I need your help, pear,” Alex sounds nervous.  
  
Pierre raises an eyebrow at his best friend’s tone of voice, he’s worrying his lip, his eyes downcast. “What’s wrong, Lynny?” He asks.  
  
Alex says nothing as he pulls a box out of his pocket. Pierre feels his mouth turn dry as Alex’s fingers slide over the black velvet box, prising it open and revealing a beautiful silver ring which gleams in the light.  
  
“Alex-” Pierre whispers, his mouth dropping open. “What are you-”  
  
“I’m going to ask Mitch to marry me,” Alex says, blush dancing over his cheeks. “Do you think he will say yes?”  
  
Pierre smiles quickly, his chest feels tight, his heart shattered into pieces at the sight of the ring before him, the ring that will not belong on his finger. He ignores the tears that prick at the corners of his eyes as he surveys his best friend still holding out the ring, waiting for his response. Pierre wants to tell Alex how he truly feels, wants to tell him he loves him, but the words die on his lips.  
  
“He’d be stupid not to say yes,” Pierre admits truthfully.  
  
Alex’s mouth curves into a smile. “Thank you,” He whispers. “Thank you,”  
  
Pierre cries later that night in the shower, thinks about the ring in Alex’s pocket, about Alex _married_ . Tears fall down his cheeks as he clutches at his chest, angry loud sobs permeate through the thick air as he thinks only of Alex, of what their life could have been.

* * *

  
  
Alex proposes to Mitch on New Years Eve. Pierre watches his best friend drop down on one knee before the entire party.  
  
“Mitchell Evans-”  
  
“Oh god,” Mitch whispers, his face chalk white at the sight of his boyfriend on one knee before him. “Oh god,” He repeats as Alex pulls out the box which Pierre has already seen.  
  
“Mitchell Evans, will you marry me?” Alex asks, the smile on his face is enormous.  
  
“Yes...yes, of course I will!” Mitch says, his hand shaking inside Alex’s. Alex slides the silver ring onto Mitch’s finger. Pierre watches the ring fall into place over Mitch’s finger as the party erupts into cheers. He downs the rest of his beer in one gulp before he finds Stoffel’s hand and drags him away from the party and up to the bed they are sharing. Stoffel smiles, his eyes glassy, his lips sharp with alcohol as he presses inside Pierre. Pierre feels his fingers curl around the sheets, shifts his hips, pretends that it doesn’t hurt, that this is exactly what he wanted. Stoffel’s cock brushes over his prostate and he sees stars. But as his orgasm fades away, he can’t help but think about the warmth that curled in his lower abdomen when he kissed Alex in the back of the taxi all those years ago.

* * *

  
  
Pierre straightens his suit jacket as he glances at himself in the mirror. He can’t believe he’s doing this, he can’t believe he agreed to it. His suit feels like it’s drowning him, it feels too tight against his body, like it’s constricting him. He pauses and watches the man before him. Alex looks nervous. He keeps worrying his lip between his teeth, his nails completely bitten down as he fixes his bowtie for the hundredth time.  
  
Pierre watches the man he loves before he takes a deep breath. It’s now or never. He has to tell Alex now, he has to let him know what his true feelings are.  
  
“You sure you’re ready for this?” He asks.  
  
Alex stiffens, his fingers pausing on the material. “I’m not sure,”  
  
“Why do you say that? Don’t you want to marry him?” He asks, hoping his voice doesn’t hold too much optimism.  
  
“Of course I do, pear,” Alex says softly, worrying his lip. “I just...marrying someone is a big step,”  
  
“But you love him,” Pierre says quietly. “Don’t you?”  
  
“I do, of course I do-” Alex whispers. His brown eyes fix on Pierre. “Why are you asking me this?” He asks, his voice weak.  
  
“Alex, please-”  
  
Alex’s eyes remain locked on him. “Why are you asking me these questions, Pierre?” He repeats.  
  
“Don’t make me say it,” Pierre’s voice is barely a whisper.  
  
“You love me don’t you?” Alex says, his voice full of trepidation.  
  
Pierre nods once slowly.  
  
“How long?” Alex asks.  
  
Pierre doesn’t answer. Alex narrows his eyes, his lip still caught in his teeth. “How long, Pierre?”  
  
“Since we were fifteen,” Pierre sounds out, tears already coming to his eyes as he surveys the man he’s loved all his life.  
  
“No, no, no,” Alex says, shaking his head. “No, you can’t love me, you can’t be in love with me, Pierre. You can’t fall in love with me-”  
  
“Do you think I wanted this?” Pierre whispers, tears falling down his cheeks. “Do you think I can just switch it off?”  
  
“Of course not, but I never expected you’d admit it to me on my bloody wedding day, Pierre. I’m getting _married_ in a few hours,”  
  
“Don’t marry Mitch,” Pierre says, knowing he’s fighting a losing battle. “Please, don’t marry him,”  
  
“Pear,” Alex whispers, moving closer to Pierre, his hand gently folds over the Frenchman’s cheek and his brown eyes meet Pierre’s. “Pear, please. Don’t say things like that. I’m so so sorry,”  
  
“Alex-” Pierre mutters, leaning into Alex’s touch. “I love you,”  
  
Alex closes his eyes, his thumb dancing over Pierre’s cheek. “I know. But I don’t love you in that way, pear. I’m so sorry,” He says, tears falling down his own cheeks now as he caresses Pierre’s face gently. “I am so sorry,” He repeats.  
  
Pierre doesn’t say anything, he just leans into the touch, allows himself to be selfish and soak up Alex’s caresses before he’s lost forever, it’s the only thing his broken heart allows itself to cling to.


End file.
